


The Last Word

by kiki_bunny



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Sexual Humor, Sickfic, it's just cutesy banter, literally the most self serving thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 13:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13318908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiki_bunny/pseuds/kiki_bunny
Summary: “Laurent,” Damen coughed miserably, his head lolling to the side to glance at his lover with clouded eyes, “if I don’t make it, please never forget how much I love you.”In which Damen gets a cold and on Laurent's nerves.





	The Last Word

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the fact my fiancee and i both caught a cold at the same time (their fault). what better way to make myself feel better than write a fic inspired the fact we're both miserable? 
> 
> this is my first fic for the fandom as well, so i'm a little nervous. i hope everyone enjoys this!!

The room was dim, only a single lamp illuminating one side of the queen sized bed. Its light painted the room a soft orange; easy on aching heads but just bright enough to see. The smell of medicine clung to Laurent’s nose; sickly sweet, an embarrassing imitation of berries. Thinking about the way it smelled made him scrunch up his nose, and every time the lump next to him moved that smell seemed to reinvite itself into his senses.

“Laurent,” Damen coughed miserably, his head lolling to the side to glance at his lover with clouded eyes, “if I don’t make it, please never forget how much I love you.”

Laurent let the book in his hands fall gently into his lap as he turned his bespectacled gaze upon the man next to him. “Damen, it’s a cold. Please keep the dramatics to a minimum,” he replied, annoyance adding some color to his tone. 

Damen groaned and sniffled pathetically. He let a hand slide upward across his face and run through his unkempt curls, “I’m in absolute agony. Please feel a little sorry for me.”

“Sorry.” Laurent’s eyes rolled and then went back to roving the pages of his book. “If it’s really so bad that you are positive you’re about to die, I’ll gladly drive you to the hospital.”

Groaning in pain from a combination of congestion and the brain rattling cough, Damen moaned, “I don’t need to go to the hospital.” 

Laurent gave the man next to him a quiet, derisive glance. “You’re absolutely right. If you die, I’ll never have to hear you bitch about being sick again,” he quipped.

“God, I can’t wait for you to catch this. It will be the sweetest revenge imaginable.” Damen allowed his sickly body a moment of joy. 

“Keep dreaming, sweetheart.” Laurent held the book up a little higher to emphasize that he was done with the conversation. “I never get sick.”

Damen laughed breathily, a slight whistle and wheeze. “Never say never.” And then he sneezed, messily. Laurent’s head snapped to Damen, looking absolutely appalled. He scooted as far away as the edge of the bed would allow, checking his person for any signs of mucus. 

“There are at least ten boxes of tissues surrounding you. You couldn’t have grabbed one before you decided to fling fluids everywhere?” Laurent plucked one from a box near him and held it out to Damen with the very tips of his pointer and middle finger, face twisted in disgust. 

Damen took the tissue with a snuff, “Well, sweetheart, I figured since you can’t get sick, there’s no point in taking preventative measures.” He blew his nose as loudly as he could, taking pleasure in the unimpressed line of his boyfriend’s lips. “Plus, you don’t seem to mind when I fling other fluids on you.”

“Mature.” Laurent snorted, trying not to be amused by the comment but failing. “You usually ask first anyway. I gave no consent to being sneezed on. No one wants to be covered in sinus drainage.”

“I used to pay my friends to sneeze on me when they were sick in high school so I could stay home.” Damen admitted with a note of triumph. “So, you’re wrong.”

“You’re truly an inspiration, Damianos. An absolute hero, standing up for snot fetishists everywhere. Where’s your BuzzFeed article?” Laurent closed his book with a thump, setting it down on the low nightstand next to him. “How long until the NyQuil takes effect?”

“Sick of me?” Damen grinned. 

“More than you can imagine,” Laurent deadpanned, rearranging his pillow so he could lay down. He turned on his side facing away from Damen, who whined in protest.

“You truly are cold. You’re not even going to face me?” 

Laurent groaned. “No. You smell like that awful medicine and I don’t want you breathing in my face all night,” he snapped. “Also, unlike you, I have to work tomorrow. Might as well cut the apron strings now so you can figure out how to fend for yourself while I’m gone.” 

“You should quit your job and be a stay at home husband. You can take care of me whenever I’m sick then.” Damen scooted closer, pressing his overheated chest against Laurent’s cool back. 

Laurent squirmed, but ultimately didn’t complain. “I can’t imagine something more unpleasant. There’s a reason I’m not a nurse.” 

“Because your bedside manners suck,” Damen quipped, feeling his senses starting to dull. 

“Absolutely,” Laurent agreed, feeling Damen’s breath begin to slow and even out, despite the occasional sniffling. “Goodnight, lover.”

Damen’s response was less actual words and more incoherent syllables strung together close-mouthed. Laurent breathed a soft laugh and found himself being lulled to sleep as well, even with the putrid smell of the medication surrounding him.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much to @supcl4ra for editing this for me! you are a gift. <3


End file.
